


The Missing Finger, or The a Diary of Jason Dean: Part 3

by Gribby



Series: The Missing Finger, or The Diary of Jason Dean [3]
Category: Heathers (1988)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 12:12:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10536225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gribby/pseuds/Gribby
Summary: J.D speaks to Veronica at school.





	

Dear Diary,  
The look on Ronnie’s face was worth a million bucks. Her jaw was practically scraping the ground when she saw me- looked as if she’d seen a ghost. I guess you could say she was scared, though God alone knows why- I mean, it was her who shot me, not the other way round! I should be the one who’s scared (I would be too if I ever got scared). She was wearing Heather Chandler’s scrunchie, as I believe girls call them.  
God, it was fun killing her. Wonder what Miss. Chandler’s up to these days- partying with Lucifer? Who knows? Who cares? She was a tyrant, and the whole school’s glad her reign’s over (save for the odd former minion of hers). Still, don’t you think it was a tad low of Veronica, taking the bobble out of a dead girl’s hair, so to speak? I thought she disliked this whole thing with the Heathers ruling the school anyway, now she’s doing the same thing.  
Still, gotta admit she’s fit. Funny too (except when she’s shooting at you). I thought she loved me. I really thought she bloody loved me. Do you know what she said to me? She said: “J.D?! How the hell are you not dead?! It’s okay, Ronnie, this is not happening right now, you’re going to open your eyes, and this’ll all be just some cruel nightmare.” Batting her butterfly-like eyelids closed, she crossed her fingers tightly and pursed her lips. Those lips. Stealthily approaching her from behind, I placed my hands over her eyes, and delicately opened them, before wheeling her around to face me, and planting a kiss upon those lips.  
“Greetings and salutations.”  
She slapped me. “This is not happening. J.D, you blew yourself up. You’re dead. Why do you haunt me?”  
“You never really loved me, Veronica,” I said caressing her silken hair, which fell in waves of perfume down to her shoulders.  
“I loved you once, but… How can you expect me to love you after you murdered Heather Chandler, not to mention Kurt and Ram?”  
“Anyone ever told you, you’re beautiful when you’re angry?” I asked casting her a rye smile and running a hand through my hair, before continuing: “What I did wasn’t murder.”  
“That wasn’t murder?! J.D, people died at your hands,” she snapped, clearly riled.  
“Talking of my hands, you blew my finger off,” I retorted, beginning to feel my hackles rise- as if Ronnie’s really managed to convince herself she wasn’t involved. I know she believed me about the bullets, but only because she wanted to. Her precious J.D wouldn’t hurt a fly. Oh, how times have changed. Now, she holds me fully responsible.  
“If one of the girls Kurt and Ram raped killed them when they were attacking her, would that be murder?” I inquired, my voice laced with cynicism.  
“No- it would be self-defence, but J.D, the two scenarios are not even remotely comparable. You killed them in cold-blood!”  
“I was protecting others. Come on, Ronnie. You did ‘An Inspector Calls’ in English. You can’t have forgotten that: ‘We are not alone. We are all members of one body. We are all responsible for each other.’ I was defending you and every other girl they’ve harassed, and as such, it was self-defence. Besides, it may have escaped your notice, but you shot one of them. Was that murder?”  
“You lied about those bullets.”  
“I was talking to Betty Finn this morning. Your grandfather’s German.”

This entry’s becoming rather long, so I’ll sign off for now,  
J.D


End file.
